When The Lights Fade Out
by storytelllaur
Summary: No matter how hard one tries to escape or deny it, in the end, no matter what, They always get what they want. [Pre-game, Charlie. oneshot.]


**A/N: I actually wrote this over six months ago, on June 22nd, 2016. It was originally posted on my Tumblr, but I figured it might be good to port it here. Sorry if it isn't up to scratch!**

* * *

"…Charlie?"

No response.

"Charlie! Can you hear me? Please wake up…"

Nothing. A pause. "…Charlie, I don't have much time– _any_ time. **They** don't want me here. Listen to me. Don't sleep, and don't let yourself get caught in the dark without a light. **They'll** get you. **They** want you. Don't let them catch you."

Sounds of a struggle. A man's grunt of pain, fear, and despair.

"…Oh, Charlie…I…I am so very sorry."

She didn't even get the chance to catch a glimpse of him before he vanished into the shadows.

Hazel eyes flew open, and Charlie gasped, abruptly sitting up and clutching her head at the sudden wave of dizziness and pain that overwhelmed her body. She stared around herself in a panic, unable to recall what had happened for a few frightening moments.

The show. There'd been a show. She could tell that much just from looking down at herself–she only wore dresses this fancy if she was performing with him. But…where was she now? She was definitely outside, and there was no sign of the stage–or people, for that matter.

As she finally took in her surroundings, she couldn't help but notice that the place was pretty barren, even by nature standards. Nothing but a few semi-mature trees swaying ominously in a light breeze, and dirt and dead grass surrounding her. The whole place looked as if it had been painted by somebody who got the basics of composition, but didn't really have much of an idea of what they were doing. Even the sky looked painted-on, cloudless and a dull shade of blue that simply didn't happen in real life. Its only feature was a sun half-obscured by the vanishing point of the flatland.

What manner of place was this? And, if she'd been at a show…where was _he?_

Panic lanced through her chest as she remembered; the book, something had happened with his book, something abnormal even by his standards. A hand had come straight out of the book and grabbed him, and then the ground had lurched horribly and something snatched her around the waist and she was in the air–

Charlie quickly stumbled to her feet. It felt as if she'd been hit by a train–not that she knew what that felt like, but she could imagine it being similar, at least.

"Max? Maxwell!"

He'd been talking to her, hadn't he? Yes, just a moment ago! Had she dreamed that? Something about not leaving herself in the dark, and something looking for her…

 _"Maxwell!"_

She began running. She wasn't sure where she was going, all she knew was that she wanted to find the magician, grab him by the waistcoat and demand to know _what had happened back there,_ because she was _certain_ that hadn't been a part of the act.

He'd looked afraid. That wasn't like him. Something had _definitely_ gonewrong.

And she was worried for him, too…

It was like an awful dream–no matter how much she ran, the landscape never seemed to change. Just those awkward-looking trees and dead grass and, if she ran too far in one direction, sheer cliffs leading down to treacherous 'ocean' that almost looked like it belonged in a theater set.

Something caught her foot. She stumbled and fell onto her hands with a cry, tearing her delicate black gloves in the process. Charlie abruptly rolled herself over and turned to see what she'd hit–a very sharp stone, it looked like. Had that been there before? She didn't know, she didn't _care_.

"…M-Maxy, where are you…?"

And then she dared to use it. The name that had been listed on the classified ad. The name of the gawky, bespectacled man from the hotel who'd claimed to be 'the agent of the Amazing Maxwell'–an excuse which might've worked on a simpler girl who would be fooled by a change of clothes and a loss of the glasses.

 _"William!"_

Charlie had never called him by that name since that day. As far as she was concerned, Maxwell was his real name if he wanted it to be. He'd made her swear never to tell a soul his given name, but it didn't seem like there were any souls here to know.

Charlie struggled to catch her breath, sitting there with her eyes screwed shut and hoping to hear some kind of response. Any would do, at this point. She wanted explanations. She wanted to be able to go home and send a letter to her sister telling the 'real funny story' of how the show had hit a snag and they'd gotten thrown into a plain somewhere.

The very air seemed to be pressing in on her. She put her hands to her head in pain.

She didn't even want to think about what had happened; about the myriad of shadows that had leapt from the book and slithered across the floor like oil. That had been physical enough to grab them both. She didn't want to think of how he'd shouted out her name and she'd caught a glimpse of him in the same situation hanging in the air near her before–

Charlie opened her eyes and shook her head, biting her lip. No use dwelling on it– _whatever_ it was that had happened. For now she had to find him. And then they'd find some way to get to a town or something, right? It'd be just fine. She was being silly, panicking like this…

 _Right. Just ignore the shivers. Nobody's watchin' you. That's silly. Nobody's watchin' you. They can't be._

Charlie slowly stood, dusting the dirt and loose grass from her mint-green dress. Deep breath, let it out. She folded her arms in front of her. Okay. She turned her gaze up to the sky. The sun was above the horizon, heading for the halfway point. He'd said something about needing some form of light, hadn't he? Even if that'd just been her imagination, something about this place chilled her. She didn't want to find herself sitting in pitch darkness here.

"Look at me, afraid of the dark," she said out loud, with a shaky laugh and a sigh.

Charlie focused on her surroundings once more, settling her attention on the large rock in the ground she'd tripped over. She frowned, knelt, and pulled it out from its position halfway stuck in the dirt, doing her best not to cut her hand open on the stone's sharp edges. The stone was smooth, like a perfect skipping stone, tapered to points on either end.

"What do I do with you…"

As she stood back to her full (if diminutive) height, she noticed something she was pretty sure hadn't been there before. Charlie tilted her head to the side, slowly approaching what looked to be a miniature tree or sapling growing from the yellowed grass. It looked to have some surprisingly sturdy branches, and she quickly plucked off the larger ones–best for her to have something to defend herself with, even if it was a stick. Then she turned to see if there'd been anything else she hadn't noticed…or anything new.

Indeed, there was a tree. Not like the other awkward, leafless trees–this looked to be some sort of evergreen, like a Christmas tree she could recall them setting up in the city center just a few months ago.

Giving a thoughtful hum, Charlie looked from the trees to the rock and sturdy branches in her hands, then back to the tree. The tree didn't seem that thick or large, especially for an evergreen. And the rock was sharp. Maybe…she could hack off some of the tree's branches? Or better?

It seemed like a longshot, but she refused to go down without trying. Her jaw set, and she marched towards the tree.

She was not the sort of girl to give up easily. And she was not the sort of girl who was afraid to get her hands dirty if she had to.

Her stomach growled, and she let out a sigh.

And she'd better find something to eat before night fell.

The tree and the sapling didn't turn out to be the only things to randomly appear that day–she'd turn around and there'd be some flowers scattered about, or a bush covered in red berries that she somehow just knew were edible. There'd be a carrot in the ground, or a bundle of tall grass. She even found more of the sharp rocks and the saplings.

But it was hard work, harder than she was used to. Sunset found her by an awkwardly-made fire she'd only known how to build because her sister was into camping and had dragged her along through the Canadian woods trying to teach her how to love nature. Charlie had always been more of a city girl, herself, though now she thanked her lucky stars Vicky had been so into it.

She was nervously twisting the stems of some of the local flowers together, with shaky and bloodied hands. Her gloves were completely ruined, and they hadn't spared her palms one whit. Despite her busy fingers, her mind couldn't help but wander to the awful show…had it only been the previous evening? It felt like an eternity. She longed for some company, somebody to talk to. Even just a slight sign of the presence of another human being.

As the sun's light finally–and rather rapidly–began draining from the land, Charlie scooted closer to her shoddy fire, abandoning her half-finished flower crown beside her for the moment.

He'd told her not to sleep, too. Well, she might've been tired, but for some reason, she didn't feel the need to do that. Instead, she took a carrots she'd found earlier and skewered it on one of the smaller twigs, holding it out to roast over the fire as if that'd somehow make it less dirty.

"Maxy, what'd you get us into," she murmured to herself, shaking her head, "I dunno _how_ you even got us into this. I know you did somethin' with the book. B-but it's just a trick of the light, yeah? All those shadows. None of it's actually real, so it couldn't've hurt us…"

A chill ran down her spine. Something was watching her.

She stood and whirled around, holding out the carrot on a stick like a weapon as she stared into the darkness. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, and her breathing was harsh and cold down her throat. But the darkness was absolute. Not even moonlight made it possible for her to see more than a few feet from the fire.

"Wh-who's there!"

It felt like the darkness was pressing in on her. She dropped the carrot to throw her hands over her ears. She swore she could hear whispers in the dark, see eyes watching her.

"Those shadow things, they're not real. They're not real. Don't let it get to your head. You're just actin' like a dumb kid. C-c'mon…it's just dark…"

Deep breaths. She saw something out of the corner of her eye, like eyes watching her–she turned her head. Nothing. Of course it was nothing. Charlie slowly retrieved her carrot, turned, and sat back down next to the fire, a shudder wracking her small frame.

"Real or not, I don't think I wanna go out there at night…"

The next few days were surviving. Barely, at that. Even as the world seemed to build itself around her and help to sustain her–with trees and with berries and with grassland and small rabbit-like creatures–she could still barely scrape out an existence. Her stomach always growling. Her feet always tired.

She'd call out his name every so often–every name she knew he had. She'd hope and pray there was a response, but it never came. She was just as scared for him as she was for herself. What had decided to grab _him_ so specifically and so _angrily_ at the show? Did he have the camping experience she'd had? Had he even been able to make a fire before…

People didn't just die because it got dark. That was silly. And he was a very crafty man, she knew that well. He was probably fine.

Hopefully.

As night followed night, however, Charlie became more worried for her own sanity. The world seemed to be out of focus. During the day, she swore she could see moving shadows and beings just out of her line of vision, that vanished if she got towards them. Eyes in the dark. Pressure. _Voices._

At one point, she'd nearly dozed off while resting under a tree. The whispers she heard at night had become much clearer, seemingly speaking straight into her head. Telling her how she should just relax and let **them** have her. That she'd be so much better off with **them,** anyways. How she belonged to **them** and should just accept it, it'd be easier that way. No more pain, no more fear. She'd _be_ the dark. She'd _be_ fear.

The hypnotic murmuring in her head had nearly lulled her to sleep, before a furious rain began and lightning struck a nearby tree, causing a crack of thunder so loud she jumped to her feet and started running before even knowing what was going on. The rain quickly intensified, as if the storm itself were trying to put out the raging forest fire it had just started.

Whoever was running this shindig clearly still had no idea what they were doing.

And on it went. Barely surviving. For a time she'd lost track of, with no sign of other human life, and the constant shadows at the corners of her eyes, the shadows that were _calling_ her.

And then, something was _actually_ making noise, at last, other than the rabbits.

Though this was no better, and caused her teeth to clench and her to stare around in fright.

It certainly sounded to her like a pack of angry, feral dogs.

And it was getting closer.

She hadn't even managed to figure out a weapon to defend herself with, other than her axe. And it had broken all too quickly.

The hounds were vicious, and it took most of the day to defeat them with axe swings and punches.

But as dusk fell over the land, Charlie herself almost looked worse than the bodies of the dogs.

By now, her face was smeared with dirt, and her hair was a mess. Her skirts had been torn up by running and getting caught on branches and bushes. Her gloves were worn through and there were scabs on her hands. But it didn't compare to the deep bite marks on her upper arm and shoulder, and the slash in her skirt leaking blood down her leg from the swipe of a claw. She was lying on her back in the forest, staring into the trees and heaving for breath, eyes squeezed shut and tears finding their way out.

 _Please. Please. I don't want to die here. Don't let me die here._

"…M-Maxwell…!" Even now, she tried to call for him. "Maxy…p-please…"

She missed him more than she thought. Even if she didn't understand why this had happened, still didn't know whether or not she'd been lied to about the nature of Maxwell's acts…she just wanted to see him.

 _Why would you?_

A harsh gasp. She laid still as her heart pumped blood out of the wounds. The voices were back, and her head was absolutely _aching_ since the attack.

She felt like something was pushing against her consciousness, trying to get in. She tried to fight it. She wouldn't let them, she _wouldn't._

 _He did this to you._

Charlie struggled to sit up. Fire, she needed a fire…She'd dropped her supplies nearby, she could make a torch with the grass and sticks…

 _It's all his fault. He lied to you. He made a deal. You were the price he was willing to pay for fame, for saving his own skin…_

She froze. She didn't want to believe it.

"No…"

 _He's been creating this world._

 **They** let that one ring in her head a bit. This world that helped her…but also so badly injured her.

She felt **them** leaking into her mind, and her fright began to change, into some strange, unwarranted anger. The rational part of her knew that someone else had probably caused the dogs to run after her because he wouldn't do that, right? But…

 _He used you._

Gritting her teeth through the pain, Charlie rolled over, letting out a yell of effort. She managed to find a dropped stick and a bundle of grass, and allowed herself to rest on her back again, holding the materials above her and working to try and craft a torch, even as her vision was starting to blur and the sky began to darken.

A scrape against the ground somehow lit the torch just in time–she didn't understand how fires could be so easily lit, but took it as a quirk of this world. She held it up protectively in front of her as the world grew dark, as if trying to fend it off.

There was silence for some time. Just **them** trying to get into her mind, and her, teeth clenched, trying to ignore the pain in her body and her head, trying to fend them off.

 _You can see him again._

Her heart nearly stopped right there. "What…?"

 _We can give you power over the darkness. You'll never need to fear it again. You'll never need to fear death, or pain. We can save you from dying. And then we can bring you to him._

Something worming into her head wanted to just kill him herself but, no, that wasn't what she wanted. What did she want? She didn't want to die. She wanted a chance to go home…

 _You belong to us. Put out the light. Let us begin._

Charlie held the torch with shaking hands, unsure, afraid.

She just wanted to see him again. She just wanted an explanation.

 _You know you can't survive another attack. Put out the light._

She knew, oh she knew. Her heart was racing and she knew that was bad, just because of the blood…

 _Put out the light._

A deep, halting breath.

Charlie drove the head of her torch into the dirt at her side, extinguishing it and leaving her in blackness. She slammed her eyes shut as she felt spindly, incorporeal hands grabbing her, and at once she was falling.

 **She was Them. And They were her.**


End file.
